Tail Wheel Tips ???
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Tail wheel tips...Almost ground looped!!
Did another two hours today....very inconsistent and still struggling to master the landing and still too light on the rudder ...must be more authoritative! Also found my achilles heal or should I say foot!! They are too big and try as I might, they keep riding up the pedals onto the brakes. I think that this was the main reason why almost ground looped today.We started drifting off to the right of the runway and in goes the left boot to bring us back...before I know it we are 90 degrees to the runway heading and the poor chap behind had to go around [sorry by the way, I know not what I do].
Anyway we get right back in the saddle, line up and off we go again.
Am determined to keep going with this and I will master it, jsu think I need smaller feet! Do transair do these?
M
Anyway we get right back in the saddle, line up and off we go again.
Am determined to keep going with this and I will master it, jsu think I need smaller feet! Do transair do these?
M
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YOu will master it I am sure. Remember fifty years ago initial training was taildragger. It isnt that difficult just different. Im sure you will have been told about all of those forces conspiring to puch you into the grass at the side of the runway but they are just that - known forces which you control out.
Nose wheel aircrfat with forgiving underccariage arrangements just make us a bit lazy.
Nose wheel aircrfat with forgiving underccariage arrangements just make us a bit lazy.
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Training a nose wheel pilot to fly a tail wheel airplane is mostly an exercise in controlling yaw on the ground by the use of rudder.
I spend as much time as it takes on the ground to get them used to controlling yaw.
This involves slow speed directional control and loss of control, then we use the runway for high speed runs down the runway with the tail in the air, once they can keep it straight then we learn to S turn down the runway.
When they have that all sorted out we go flying.
I spend as much time as it takes on the ground to get them used to controlling yaw.
This involves slow speed directional control and loss of control, then we use the runway for high speed runs down the runway with the tail in the air, once they can keep it straight then we learn to S turn down the runway.
When they have that all sorted out we go flying.
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But, Chuck, what about the hold-off? The biggest sin I see in nosewheel pilots is they don't hold off and they land 3-point or nearly so. In a tailwheel aeroplane that won't wash. So don't you find you need to teach them that skill? That ability to hold off the aeroplane from landing until it just quits flying and settles on? Most guys can get their feet in gear after a while and keep it straight (albeit with a bit of overcontrolling initially), but getting that hold-off right, and recovering from the bounce if you dont, takes practice I'd say.
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Shaggy.....of course I teach them that....
....in fact that is almost as important as being able to keep the .u.kin thing from running off the runway spinning round and round.
Remember the rule....a perfect touch down impresses no one if you lose control and wreck it during the roll out.
....in fact that is almost as important as being able to keep the .u.kin thing from running off the runway spinning round and round.
Remember the rule....a perfect touch down impresses no one if you lose control and wreck it during the roll out.
I got a checkout in a BC12D one time, and I was doing some very nice landings. On one landing, short final, the instructor pulls out a map, opens it up, starts reaching for stuff over on my side, had me completely distracted and I did a crappy landing- then recovered. He said "Now that's what I wanted to see, let's go back and I'll sign you off."
-- IFMU
-- IFMU
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One little addition...
...to all the advice you have here already. I, too, have "4 digit" experience in taildraggers (just - must be something like 1000 hours, between the Harmon Rocket, the Spezio Tuholer, and a little Citabria time) and have spent quite a bit of time flying with newbies in taildraggers. I must emphasise, though that I'm not an instructor....but, while I agree that the recommended books are really good, a fun read, educational and so on, I personally think the answer is:
"don't think too much, look out the window, relax, and KEEP IT STRAIGHT" !!
I don't mean to sound glib, it's just that the physics of what's going on in, say, a taildragger take off are quite multi-faceted. All that "gyroscopic precession when you lift the tail" stuff...and so on, and so on. I really think the key is, as Chuck alluded to, yaw control - which is a fancy way of saying KEEP IT STRAIGHT. So you nearly groundlooped? Don't overthink it - keep it straight, and you won't. Pitch control on the takeoff or landing roll? Look out the window!! Not at the foreground, but at something a long way away - and don't accept ANY deviation from perfectly straight down the middle of the runway, while you're learning anyway. Do that, and groundloops will be as likely as landing gear up in your Decathlon.
I'm pretty sure if you took a 200 hour nosewheel pilot, put them into a Decathlon, and could somehow get them to worry less, and just keep it straight, then they'd find it easier than rushing in with a head full of theory, and the old saw that "there's those who HAVE groundlooped, and those who will". (This is BS, BTW) Truth is, you'll never groundloop if you keep it straight. I know that when I did my tailwheel rating, 10 years ago now, I had too much going on in the brain, and not enough in the feet. In retrospect, having done lots of reading, I was quite intimidated, and I don't think that was ideal. I reckon being relaxed is probably the best way to prevent overcontrolling or PIO...
I would agree that it's best not to push hard forward on the stick straight away on the T/O roll. Perserving tailwheel heaviness gives you more chance of achieving the primary goal (did I mention? KEEP IT STRAIGHT
and then when you do bring the tail up you've got more airspeed, which will help to, you guessed it, keep it straight. Also, no reason not to bring the power in more gently on T/O, when you're learning, which will help you...keep it straight. OK, I'll stop now.
With a little practice, I agree with some here that the wheel landing is the better. You can land with more accuracy, you're not stalled, and then when you put her down you've got much better control. I would wheel land all taildraggers, all the time, except for very limited circumstances, ie 1. very low prop clearance, such as in the Pitts, where I'm told 3 pointers are better, 2. forced landings onto rough terrain, where you want to not flip over, and 2. VERY careful landings onto soft, eg muddy, terrain. Although you gotta be careful there, and you won't be doing any of that stuff yet. For all other reasons, including short landings, I'll do a wheel landing every time.
Hope that's useful. Do persist - once you can do it, it's hard to go back to aircraft with the little wheel at the boring end...it also brings a sense of accomplishment, as well as access to many very interesting aeroplanes, which would otherwise not be accessible. It's no accident, I think, that even now some of the most interesting high performance aircraft are taildraggers. Apart from everything else, they're just more fun...
"don't think too much, look out the window, relax, and KEEP IT STRAIGHT" !!
I don't mean to sound glib, it's just that the physics of what's going on in, say, a taildragger take off are quite multi-faceted. All that "gyroscopic precession when you lift the tail" stuff...and so on, and so on. I really think the key is, as Chuck alluded to, yaw control - which is a fancy way of saying KEEP IT STRAIGHT. So you nearly groundlooped? Don't overthink it - keep it straight, and you won't. Pitch control on the takeoff or landing roll? Look out the window!! Not at the foreground, but at something a long way away - and don't accept ANY deviation from perfectly straight down the middle of the runway, while you're learning anyway. Do that, and groundloops will be as likely as landing gear up in your Decathlon.
I'm pretty sure if you took a 200 hour nosewheel pilot, put them into a Decathlon, and could somehow get them to worry less, and just keep it straight, then they'd find it easier than rushing in with a head full of theory, and the old saw that "there's those who HAVE groundlooped, and those who will". (This is BS, BTW) Truth is, you'll never groundloop if you keep it straight. I know that when I did my tailwheel rating, 10 years ago now, I had too much going on in the brain, and not enough in the feet. In retrospect, having done lots of reading, I was quite intimidated, and I don't think that was ideal. I reckon being relaxed is probably the best way to prevent overcontrolling or PIO...
I would agree that it's best not to push hard forward on the stick straight away on the T/O roll. Perserving tailwheel heaviness gives you more chance of achieving the primary goal (did I mention? KEEP IT STRAIGHT
and then when you do bring the tail up you've got more airspeed, which will help to, you guessed it, keep it straight. Also, no reason not to bring the power in more gently on T/O, when you're learning, which will help you...keep it straight. OK, I'll stop now.With a little practice, I agree with some here that the wheel landing is the better. You can land with more accuracy, you're not stalled, and then when you put her down you've got much better control. I would wheel land all taildraggers, all the time, except for very limited circumstances, ie 1. very low prop clearance, such as in the Pitts, where I'm told 3 pointers are better, 2. forced landings onto rough terrain, where you want to not flip over, and 2. VERY careful landings onto soft, eg muddy, terrain. Although you gotta be careful there, and you won't be doing any of that stuff yet. For all other reasons, including short landings, I'll do a wheel landing every time.
Hope that's useful. Do persist - once you can do it, it's hard to go back to aircraft with the little wheel at the boring end...it also brings a sense of accomplishment, as well as access to many very interesting aeroplanes, which would otherwise not be accessible. It's no accident, I think, that even now some of the most interesting high performance aircraft are taildraggers. Apart from everything else, they're just more fun...
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Does anyone detect the ambiguous terminology we are using here?
I find it fascinating that after 50+ years of the aviation industry trying to convince us that tricycle gear is "conventional", we diehards still regard the taildragger as "conventional"!
I find it fascinating that after 50+ years of the aviation industry trying to convince us that tricycle gear is "conventional", we diehards still regard the taildragger as "conventional"!
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Lostpianoplayer,
Good post ... BTW, I've always liked the look of the Spezio Tuholer as it looks like a real "sports" aeroplane (though it's probably underpowered in reality?).
The only thing I'd pick you up on is your example wheelers for short landings. You can do short wheeler landings, but they will nearly always be longer than three point ones . Other than that I agree completely with your post.
SS
Good post ... BTW, I've always liked the look of the Spezio Tuholer as it looks like a real "sports" aeroplane (though it's probably underpowered in reality?).
The only thing I'd pick you up on is your example wheelers for short landings. You can do short wheeler landings, but they will nearly always be longer than three point ones . Other than that I agree completely with your post.
SS
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I got signed off about 2 flying hrs ago having managed 4 decent landings in a row (10hrs training). However I am still getting half of them not as good as I would like, I won't take a pax yet, I think it is the threshold speed that I havn't nailed yet. Five touch & goes today, no wind at all, two perfect, one serious bounce, throttle up & go, two bouncy but controllable.
Is this about average or am I going backwards?
Is this about average or am I going backwards?
Five touch & goes today, no wind at all, two perfect, one serious bounce, throttle up & go, two bouncy but controllable.
Is this about average or am I going backwards?
Is this about average or am I going backwards?
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Quote:
Five touch & goes today, no wind at all, two perfect, one serious bounce, throttle up & go, two bouncy but controllable.
Is this about average or am I going backwards?
Sounds about right. Tired tuggies do about that proportion except for throttle up and go.......
Thank you, I feel a bit better now, try again tomorrow.
Five touch & goes today, no wind at all, two perfect, one serious bounce, throttle up & go, two bouncy but controllable.
Is this about average or am I going backwards?
Sounds about right. Tired tuggies do about that proportion except for throttle up and go.......
Thank you, I feel a bit better now, try again tomorrow.
I posted something similar to this a little while ago so I apologise to anyone who has read it but I thought that it might help d192049d - Catchy name by the way.
If you read The Compleat Taildragger Pilot by Harvey S. Plourde, and you should; he lists seven reasons for learning to fly a tailwheel aircraft. As I could tick five of them I thought that it was probably time that I bit the bullet and booked some lessons to give it a go. Like many people trying to support a flying habit I have to do so around family commitments and earning almost enough to pay for it; therefore time is somewhat limited and it was for that reason that I unwittingly set myself the challenge of learning to fly a taildragger in two and a half days.
After looking around and taking some advice from friends and magazines alike, as well as from Pprune, I ended up calling The Northampton School of Flying at Sibson. I was lucky enough to speak to Lucy Kimbell who arranged enough slots within the time to make it seem possible for me to do it. I arrived at a somewhat gusty Sibson on Wednesday morning with eight slots booked before two-thirty on Friday and only the tiniest inkling of what I was letting myself in for.
The welcome at Sibson was warm and friendly and I was given a full tour before being introduced to the school’s Chief Flying Instructor; he checked out my pitifully empty logbook and didn’t even wince at my still shiny licence before taking me to the hangar to meet G-ARVO, the school’s bright yellow Piper PA-18-95. In General Aviation there seems to be something to suit every taste and most pockets; a lot of people fall for sleek and shiny glass fibre rockets with televisions where the dials should be; glass on the inside, glass on the outside but I’d fallen in love with this sixty year old fabric covered machine; I could just about imagine sitting inside, floating high above the English countryside; dope on the outside, dope on the inside, you might say.
We dragged G-ARVO from the hangar and I was guided through a thorough pre-flight inspection before we came to the week’s first big challenge. How does a six-foot healthily built chap get himself into the pilot’s seat? With some difficulty, is the simple answer but eventually, and with a complete absence of grace and style, I was in. There is very little inside a Cub to check and so we were soon started and taxying, my instructor explained that he’d talk me through a take-off and then we’d head out for some general handling before coming back for my first tailwheel landing. I was amazed at the visibility from the front seat, if you’re six feet tall with only about twenty-five percent of that made up of short, fat hairy legs then the view over the nose is quite exceptional. We taxied out to the end of 24 and the throttle beside me gently opened as the instructor in the rear seat raised the tail; I never did work out how he kept it that straight, didn’t smash the propeller into a thousand splinters or saw past my prop forward’s shoulders but, before I had time to take anything in, we were airborne. It had all been quite disconcerting as the aircraft took off with no-one visibly controlling it; just a quiet, calm confidence behind me.
I was given control - for want of a better word - and I climbed quite slowly in the direction of Molesworth, the view over the nose and out of both sides was incredible, here I was perched under those little yellow wings flying one of the icons of light aviation. I don’t have a lot to compare the Cub to but I loved it right from the start, a proper stick and a proper throttle and an aeroplane that you could feel moving underneath you. Once I’d got the hang of something different then the turns were great fun and the stall never really happened, I’m sure with a decent headwind you’d just end up back at the airfield without turning round or the nose ever nodding downwards. Then someone took control of my proper throttle and closed it.
‘Let’s try a forced landing. Seventy knots for the glide.’
The Cub seemed to hang in the air and I therefore chose a field which was only about three miles further than we could possibly ever glide from two and a half thousand feet. Some timely intervention and demonstration of a side slip - in which the world pauses and merely moves up the windscreen - we would have made a lovely landing in the brown corduroy of quite a different field altogether.
Then it was back to Sibson for my first ever tailwheel landing. In a tailwheel aircraft you must be heading dead straight at touchdown; however, that is no guarantee of the way you will be heading three nanoseconds later, or three nanoseconds after that. If you don’t dance on the rudder pedals like Fred Astaire on cocaine then the aircraft could go any way at all and you could end up in a groundloop where the aircraft turns round by itself and has a look at where you came from. They say that there are two types of tailwheel pilot; those who have groundlooped and those who are waiting to; for me the waiting was almost over.
The circuit and descent were as I’d always done before, with the aeroplane clearly not giving a damn where its wheels were, the flare was very similar and then we were down; after a fashion. My feet were clearly half a swing behind my brain which was another half a swing behind the aeroplane. With all that swinging going on it was only a matter of time before G-ARVO slowly and gracefully turned round to give me a view of the approach.
A coffee, debrief and some good natured questioning about why the CFI had had to get out of the aeroplane and turn it round by hand before we taxied back and it was time for some more. If you’ve ever been to a summer fete where one of the attractions was a crazy bicycle where nothing is connected the right way round and none of your inputs seem to affect a machine with a will of its own then you will have an idea of how the taxying went. If you’ve ever fallen off one of those bicycles then you know all there is to know about my first take-off.
Circuit after circuit followed with the occasional decent landing and the odd almost reasonable take-off; though never together in the same circuit but we ended the day with an unaided take-off and landing that we not only survived but managed to keep the aircraft all in one piece, too.
By the end of the day I was completely shattered and probably sweatier than anyone you’d ever choose to share a cockpit with. This aeroplane was delightful to fly but nigh on impossible to take-off or land. As I drove away from the airfield a red kite hung four feet above a bush, judging the wind perfectly and hanging in the air while it watched its prey; I know that bird’s beaks don’t actually allow them to smirk at passing motorists, however...
Day two of two and a half arrived and we waited in NSF’s clubhouse for the showers to pass. People had said to me that learning to fly a taildragger was like learning to fly all over again, it wasn’t, it was far more difficult; more like learning to juggle, in public and starting off with four flaming torches rather than two bean bags.
Three hours of circuits and bumps later and, while I was assured that it was coming together and it would soon just click into place, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever master this lark. I’d more or less got the idea of taxying; getting the weight off the tailwheel ever so slightly, bursts of power to get round, always thinking of where the wind was; it seemed like an expensive lesson in moving an aeroplane on the ground. I'd now been taught to feel when the aeroplane was right and get the picture right rather than chasing numbers and I could now feel when she was ready to fly, when she was getting too slow or too fast. When it looked right and felt right then it had to be right. I’m sure that it was coming together, just as I was told, it seemed a little bit more possible each time, the aeroplane and I at least shared the decision making now, rather than it all being up to G-ARVO. I was feeling a little dejected, though; I was a pilot, I had a licence, I should be making more of the decisions.
Friday dawned clearer and brighter with a lighter wind which almost lined up with the runway, I was feeling brighter too. If only I could almost line up with the runway at some point before two-thirty then we might even get this done. Today I was flying with another of the club’s instructors and one of the few men who can make a six-foot, sixteen stone ex-rugby player feel small; I felt quite sorry for little G-ARVO as we dragged her into the sun.
I started her up and taxied round to the holding point, quick bursts of power to move the slipstream over that rudder and get her round. Power checks complete and ready for departure. Onto 24, nice and straight, add power gently bringing the tail up at the same time, speed increasing, dancing on the pedals anticipating the swing before it started, ease off that forward pressure as we meet the slight bump on the runway then continue to ease it off and we’re airborne. Climbing out but not for long.
‘Level it off there,’ I'm instructed, ‘I get hypoxic if we go any higher than this.’
As a low-houred PPL, who is used to climbing out to two and a half thousand feet where everybody else is, to have levelled out whilst not quite at circuit height is a new one on me.
‘You’re a taildragger pilot, now.’
I was guided me to Deenethorpe along a track the instructor knew well; pointing out the site of Fotheringhay castle where Mary lost her head, the faint tracks of Roman roads still marking the landscape beneath, crop marks that showed where people had lived two thousand years before, looking up at this sky that was now mine. Green fields bordered by darker hedgerows; the occasional church spire in a far off village; clouds of dust following harvesting tractors; fluffy white cumulus clouds in the unending blue above and around me; the feel of an aeroplane that wanted to fly and almost seemed to enjoy this as much as me.
Deenethorpe, asphalt, less forgiving than grass for tailwheel pilots, I’m told. Straight in, all looking good, all feeling good. Straight down the middle, holding it off, keeping her flying, holding off, all three wheels touch, we’re straight, we’re staying straight. The power increases slightly, just enough to raise the tail and steer down the middle of the runway; I’m clenching my teeth so tight I think that I might break them but we stay fairly straight and then open the throttle to fly off and do it again and again. Whilst I am still working hard, it is all falling into place, I am getting this, I am not a completely uncoordinated buffoon after all. I could do this all day if I could afford to but if God had meant us to fly he would have given us more money.
Off to Conington, a landaway, I haven’t done nearly enough of those since I got my licence. Join downwind, checks complete, turn base, start the descent, turn finals, the winds thirty degrees off and fourteen knots; time for more teeth clenching. It all seems to work, though and the little waggle into wind after landing isn’t too embarrassing. We park up and unfold ourselves from the aircraft for coffee and bacon sandwiches before the return to Sibson and a three pointer that stays straight.
‘Okay,’ I'm told, ‘go over towards the masts, get the feel of it without me in it, have some fun and come back when you’re ready.’
I’m going solo.
The tail moves round much more easily with only me on board, sat up front. Open the throttle and the tail comes up easily, we’re airborne before I’ve had the chance to worry about it swinging. Climb out and have some fun, that’s what the man said. She climbs more quickly and I’m soon up at three thousand feet, finding my way round turns, climbing, descending, just plain looking out of the window and smiling. The winds been a bit gusty and has been varying by thirty degrees either side of the runway and up to sixteen knots, then I hear the club's Tiger Moth on final.
‘230 at 8 knots,’ he’s told.
Sounds like it’s time for me to head back before it changes its mind.
Join downwind, run through my checks, here we go. Everything looks good on final and the wind hasn’t changed its mind. Power off, flare, hold it off, she floats more now than before, keep holding off, all three points.
‘Nine and a half out of ten.’ The radio informs me.
I taxy in and shut down at twenty-eight minutes past two; two minutes short of my deadline.
So, it seems as though it is possible to go from groundloop to greaser in two and a half days, even with my lack of co-ordination, but you have to be very lucky; lucky with the school you choose, lucky with your instructors, lucky with the weather and lucky with aircraft serviceability and the engineers that keep it that way.
It’s a challenge but it’s impossible to overstate what it will do for your confidence and enthusiasm for flying.
Sorry to gabble on so much but I thought it might help if you knew that other people felt like idiots, too.
If you read The Compleat Taildragger Pilot by Harvey S. Plourde, and you should; he lists seven reasons for learning to fly a tailwheel aircraft. As I could tick five of them I thought that it was probably time that I bit the bullet and booked some lessons to give it a go. Like many people trying to support a flying habit I have to do so around family commitments and earning almost enough to pay for it; therefore time is somewhat limited and it was for that reason that I unwittingly set myself the challenge of learning to fly a taildragger in two and a half days.
After looking around and taking some advice from friends and magazines alike, as well as from Pprune, I ended up calling The Northampton School of Flying at Sibson. I was lucky enough to speak to Lucy Kimbell who arranged enough slots within the time to make it seem possible for me to do it. I arrived at a somewhat gusty Sibson on Wednesday morning with eight slots booked before two-thirty on Friday and only the tiniest inkling of what I was letting myself in for.
The welcome at Sibson was warm and friendly and I was given a full tour before being introduced to the school’s Chief Flying Instructor; he checked out my pitifully empty logbook and didn’t even wince at my still shiny licence before taking me to the hangar to meet G-ARVO, the school’s bright yellow Piper PA-18-95. In General Aviation there seems to be something to suit every taste and most pockets; a lot of people fall for sleek and shiny glass fibre rockets with televisions where the dials should be; glass on the inside, glass on the outside but I’d fallen in love with this sixty year old fabric covered machine; I could just about imagine sitting inside, floating high above the English countryside; dope on the outside, dope on the inside, you might say.
We dragged G-ARVO from the hangar and I was guided through a thorough pre-flight inspection before we came to the week’s first big challenge. How does a six-foot healthily built chap get himself into the pilot’s seat? With some difficulty, is the simple answer but eventually, and with a complete absence of grace and style, I was in. There is very little inside a Cub to check and so we were soon started and taxying, my instructor explained that he’d talk me through a take-off and then we’d head out for some general handling before coming back for my first tailwheel landing. I was amazed at the visibility from the front seat, if you’re six feet tall with only about twenty-five percent of that made up of short, fat hairy legs then the view over the nose is quite exceptional. We taxied out to the end of 24 and the throttle beside me gently opened as the instructor in the rear seat raised the tail; I never did work out how he kept it that straight, didn’t smash the propeller into a thousand splinters or saw past my prop forward’s shoulders but, before I had time to take anything in, we were airborne. It had all been quite disconcerting as the aircraft took off with no-one visibly controlling it; just a quiet, calm confidence behind me.
I was given control - for want of a better word - and I climbed quite slowly in the direction of Molesworth, the view over the nose and out of both sides was incredible, here I was perched under those little yellow wings flying one of the icons of light aviation. I don’t have a lot to compare the Cub to but I loved it right from the start, a proper stick and a proper throttle and an aeroplane that you could feel moving underneath you. Once I’d got the hang of something different then the turns were great fun and the stall never really happened, I’m sure with a decent headwind you’d just end up back at the airfield without turning round or the nose ever nodding downwards. Then someone took control of my proper throttle and closed it.
‘Let’s try a forced landing. Seventy knots for the glide.’
The Cub seemed to hang in the air and I therefore chose a field which was only about three miles further than we could possibly ever glide from two and a half thousand feet. Some timely intervention and demonstration of a side slip - in which the world pauses and merely moves up the windscreen - we would have made a lovely landing in the brown corduroy of quite a different field altogether.
Then it was back to Sibson for my first ever tailwheel landing. In a tailwheel aircraft you must be heading dead straight at touchdown; however, that is no guarantee of the way you will be heading three nanoseconds later, or three nanoseconds after that. If you don’t dance on the rudder pedals like Fred Astaire on cocaine then the aircraft could go any way at all and you could end up in a groundloop where the aircraft turns round by itself and has a look at where you came from. They say that there are two types of tailwheel pilot; those who have groundlooped and those who are waiting to; for me the waiting was almost over.
The circuit and descent were as I’d always done before, with the aeroplane clearly not giving a damn where its wheels were, the flare was very similar and then we were down; after a fashion. My feet were clearly half a swing behind my brain which was another half a swing behind the aeroplane. With all that swinging going on it was only a matter of time before G-ARVO slowly and gracefully turned round to give me a view of the approach.
A coffee, debrief and some good natured questioning about why the CFI had had to get out of the aeroplane and turn it round by hand before we taxied back and it was time for some more. If you’ve ever been to a summer fete where one of the attractions was a crazy bicycle where nothing is connected the right way round and none of your inputs seem to affect a machine with a will of its own then you will have an idea of how the taxying went. If you’ve ever fallen off one of those bicycles then you know all there is to know about my first take-off.
Circuit after circuit followed with the occasional decent landing and the odd almost reasonable take-off; though never together in the same circuit but we ended the day with an unaided take-off and landing that we not only survived but managed to keep the aircraft all in one piece, too.
By the end of the day I was completely shattered and probably sweatier than anyone you’d ever choose to share a cockpit with. This aeroplane was delightful to fly but nigh on impossible to take-off or land. As I drove away from the airfield a red kite hung four feet above a bush, judging the wind perfectly and hanging in the air while it watched its prey; I know that bird’s beaks don’t actually allow them to smirk at passing motorists, however...
Day two of two and a half arrived and we waited in NSF’s clubhouse for the showers to pass. People had said to me that learning to fly a taildragger was like learning to fly all over again, it wasn’t, it was far more difficult; more like learning to juggle, in public and starting off with four flaming torches rather than two bean bags.
Three hours of circuits and bumps later and, while I was assured that it was coming together and it would soon just click into place, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever master this lark. I’d more or less got the idea of taxying; getting the weight off the tailwheel ever so slightly, bursts of power to get round, always thinking of where the wind was; it seemed like an expensive lesson in moving an aeroplane on the ground. I'd now been taught to feel when the aeroplane was right and get the picture right rather than chasing numbers and I could now feel when she was ready to fly, when she was getting too slow or too fast. When it looked right and felt right then it had to be right. I’m sure that it was coming together, just as I was told, it seemed a little bit more possible each time, the aeroplane and I at least shared the decision making now, rather than it all being up to G-ARVO. I was feeling a little dejected, though; I was a pilot, I had a licence, I should be making more of the decisions.
Friday dawned clearer and brighter with a lighter wind which almost lined up with the runway, I was feeling brighter too. If only I could almost line up with the runway at some point before two-thirty then we might even get this done. Today I was flying with another of the club’s instructors and one of the few men who can make a six-foot, sixteen stone ex-rugby player feel small; I felt quite sorry for little G-ARVO as we dragged her into the sun.
I started her up and taxied round to the holding point, quick bursts of power to move the slipstream over that rudder and get her round. Power checks complete and ready for departure. Onto 24, nice and straight, add power gently bringing the tail up at the same time, speed increasing, dancing on the pedals anticipating the swing before it started, ease off that forward pressure as we meet the slight bump on the runway then continue to ease it off and we’re airborne. Climbing out but not for long.
‘Level it off there,’ I'm instructed, ‘I get hypoxic if we go any higher than this.’
As a low-houred PPL, who is used to climbing out to two and a half thousand feet where everybody else is, to have levelled out whilst not quite at circuit height is a new one on me.
‘You’re a taildragger pilot, now.’
I was guided me to Deenethorpe along a track the instructor knew well; pointing out the site of Fotheringhay castle where Mary lost her head, the faint tracks of Roman roads still marking the landscape beneath, crop marks that showed where people had lived two thousand years before, looking up at this sky that was now mine. Green fields bordered by darker hedgerows; the occasional church spire in a far off village; clouds of dust following harvesting tractors; fluffy white cumulus clouds in the unending blue above and around me; the feel of an aeroplane that wanted to fly and almost seemed to enjoy this as much as me.
Deenethorpe, asphalt, less forgiving than grass for tailwheel pilots, I’m told. Straight in, all looking good, all feeling good. Straight down the middle, holding it off, keeping her flying, holding off, all three wheels touch, we’re straight, we’re staying straight. The power increases slightly, just enough to raise the tail and steer down the middle of the runway; I’m clenching my teeth so tight I think that I might break them but we stay fairly straight and then open the throttle to fly off and do it again and again. Whilst I am still working hard, it is all falling into place, I am getting this, I am not a completely uncoordinated buffoon after all. I could do this all day if I could afford to but if God had meant us to fly he would have given us more money.
Off to Conington, a landaway, I haven’t done nearly enough of those since I got my licence. Join downwind, checks complete, turn base, start the descent, turn finals, the winds thirty degrees off and fourteen knots; time for more teeth clenching. It all seems to work, though and the little waggle into wind after landing isn’t too embarrassing. We park up and unfold ourselves from the aircraft for coffee and bacon sandwiches before the return to Sibson and a three pointer that stays straight.
‘Okay,’ I'm told, ‘go over towards the masts, get the feel of it without me in it, have some fun and come back when you’re ready.’
I’m going solo.
The tail moves round much more easily with only me on board, sat up front. Open the throttle and the tail comes up easily, we’re airborne before I’ve had the chance to worry about it swinging. Climb out and have some fun, that’s what the man said. She climbs more quickly and I’m soon up at three thousand feet, finding my way round turns, climbing, descending, just plain looking out of the window and smiling. The winds been a bit gusty and has been varying by thirty degrees either side of the runway and up to sixteen knots, then I hear the club's Tiger Moth on final.
‘230 at 8 knots,’ he’s told.
Sounds like it’s time for me to head back before it changes its mind.
Join downwind, run through my checks, here we go. Everything looks good on final and the wind hasn’t changed its mind. Power off, flare, hold it off, she floats more now than before, keep holding off, all three points.
‘Nine and a half out of ten.’ The radio informs me.
I taxy in and shut down at twenty-eight minutes past two; two minutes short of my deadline.
So, it seems as though it is possible to go from groundloop to greaser in two and a half days, even with my lack of co-ordination, but you have to be very lucky; lucky with the school you choose, lucky with your instructors, lucky with the weather and lucky with aircraft serviceability and the engineers that keep it that way.
It’s a challenge but it’s impossible to overstate what it will do for your confidence and enthusiasm for flying.
Sorry to gabble on so much but I thought it might help if you knew that other people felt like idiots, too.
Join Date: Apr 2002
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Just a word about groundloops
Whenever taildraggers are mentioned, so also is the dreaded groundloop. However, no one ever seems to tell you in advance how to recognise the onset of a groundloop or what to do when the symptoms appear.
The usual prelude to a groundloop is that during a landing roll in a strong crosswind your aircraft will suddenly swerve about 20 degrees into wind and will show every likelihood of running off the side of the runway. As you slow down, the directional deviation becomes more and more marked, until suddenly the aircraft will slew into a very tight turn finishing up facing back in the direction from which you have just come.
The important thing is to take immediate action as soon as you see that first swerve. I believe, experienced taildragger pilots can correct this with engine and brake, although I have never done this myself as I have never been able to afford sufficient flying to maintain the level of currency required.
So while you are still learning I would suggest you do what I was taught to do forty years ago. Whenever doing a cross wind landing in a significant crosswind prepare yourself in advance to be ready to do a go-around at an instant's notice. As soon as you see that initial swerve, power on and go around.
Broomstick.
The usual prelude to a groundloop is that during a landing roll in a strong crosswind your aircraft will suddenly swerve about 20 degrees into wind and will show every likelihood of running off the side of the runway. As you slow down, the directional deviation becomes more and more marked, until suddenly the aircraft will slew into a very tight turn finishing up facing back in the direction from which you have just come.
The important thing is to take immediate action as soon as you see that first swerve. I believe, experienced taildragger pilots can correct this with engine and brake, although I have never done this myself as I have never been able to afford sufficient flying to maintain the level of currency required.
So while you are still learning I would suggest you do what I was taught to do forty years ago. Whenever doing a cross wind landing in a significant crosswind prepare yourself in advance to be ready to do a go-around at an instant's notice. As soon as you see that initial swerve, power on and go around.
Broomstick.
Drain Bamaged
Good story J.A.F.O.
One more thing about taildraggers that I which someone would have told me before I got caught.
Beside having to keep it straight, I thought you could only bounce on landings but you can also do it pretty badly during take off rolls.
(out of unprepared runways with little bumps on the way, bumps catching the main wheels)
This, if you don't pay attention and if you don't give the quick stick forward movement to break the lift/bounce at the correct moment.
It took me a good 50hrs to get that correct 'bounce versus stick' timing and the aggressiveness that goes with it
This trick was actually the hardest thing I had to learn about the Beech 18.
At the time I never flew taildraggers before and I was somehow set free after 5 hrs on it.
One more thing about taildraggers that I which someone would have told me before I got caught.
Beside having to keep it straight, I thought you could only bounce on landings but you can also do it pretty badly during take off rolls.
(out of unprepared runways with little bumps on the way, bumps catching the main wheels)
This, if you don't pay attention and if you don't give the quick stick forward movement to break the lift/bounce at the correct moment.
It took me a good 50hrs to get that correct 'bounce versus stick' timing and the aggressiveness that goes with it
This trick was actually the hardest thing I had to learn about the Beech 18.
At the time I never flew taildraggers before and I was somehow set free after 5 hrs on it.
Join Date: Jun 2002
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where to point it !
D192
FWIW when doing a tailwheel conversion the learning curve is very steep !
There's loads of well meant hints.
"Stick forward when the power goes on", well, maybe if you must, just don't apply that "golden rule" on a soggy wet field, not if you pay for your own propellers !
Personally, I prefer to get the aircraft rolling with a good amount of rearward stick applied, and once moving, then start to get the tail up. There's lots of variables, eg - little mainwheels don't roll well on soggy surfaces. Some braking systems aren't all that user friendly.
Similarly the "dancing on the rudder pedals" is a helpful reminder not to let your feet forget what they're supposed to be doing. However if you watch an experienced tailwheel pilot you'll see very little going on at the rear end of the aircraft. No furious pedalling to be seen. It's all about anticipation and timing. Make small corrections early, not large ones late.
When you finally get into the groove, you'll not remember making a conscious control input at all !
By the way, it's great fun, don't try too hard. In a few hours you'll wonder what all the fuss was about ........
FWIW when doing a tailwheel conversion the learning curve is very steep !
There's loads of well meant hints.
"Stick forward when the power goes on", well, maybe if you must, just don't apply that "golden rule" on a soggy wet field, not if you pay for your own propellers !
Personally, I prefer to get the aircraft rolling with a good amount of rearward stick applied, and once moving, then start to get the tail up. There's lots of variables, eg - little mainwheels don't roll well on soggy surfaces. Some braking systems aren't all that user friendly.
Similarly the "dancing on the rudder pedals" is a helpful reminder not to let your feet forget what they're supposed to be doing. However if you watch an experienced tailwheel pilot you'll see very little going on at the rear end of the aircraft. No furious pedalling to be seen. It's all about anticipation and timing. Make small corrections early, not large ones late.
When you finally get into the groove, you'll not remember making a conscious control input at all !
By the way, it's great fun, don't try too hard. In a few hours you'll wonder what all the fuss was about ........